Rain. Cold spikes through the dark of the night, stabbing and splintering across my crouched form as I waited. The cement rooftop was slick with the downpour; it had been this way since the sun went down. Dark splotches of water peppered the street and sidewalk below, pooling in the cracks spiderwebbing across the cement while the dim streetlights showed barely a halo of electric light below.
Luckily my eyes didn’t need the light. Not only was I trained for assassinations in the dark, I was a Turned night-creature. My clothes clung to my every curve thanks to the rain, my jeans and shirt fitting like a second skin. A slight breeze made my leather jacket shuffle, while a nylon collar chaffed my neck. Strands of black hair clung to my face, and brushing it away only created more streams across the angles of my face. I had tried to shake my eyes clear only once, resulting in my monster rope-braid slinging around and hitting me in the face.
I watched the street below, scanning the same span of street and sidewalk I had been staring at for hours. All the humans had long since abandoned the dark, save a wandering drunkard or lost child. I idly toyed with the handle of my favored Bowie knife, fingers tracing the worn parts before jumping to the nearby throwing knives. They were the tip of what I usually carried, and I carried only the weapons I knew how to manipulate.
The water slid down my back and slithered around my stomach in small streams as I crouched, waiting for my target, a monster called Darius. I had gotten my information from the Keepers, the lawmen of the non-human. My hunt and retrieval of Darius was a part of a multi-faceted deal I made with them, a capture for alleged freedom. And unless they were screwing with me, he was going to show up tonight, on this road.
My limbs were cramping. I was cold. This was steadily growing less and less worth it. The latest thought of how I would run crossed my mind, how I would tamper with or cut the obnoxious collar around my neck tracking my movement and body condition. How I would fake a malfunction, wait for the Keeper assigned to my case to find me and then kill him, hoping he had the key to my freedom. How I could summon an old frenemy and try to bargain my way out of my current situation.
But I did nothing. Except sit and wait.
My patience was rewarded.
A sound below drew my attention. Footsteps. Heavy breathing. Pounding heartbeat. I peered over the rooftop, although I had a feeling this wasn’t Darius. But I needed to focus on something else.
My grip tightened around my silver-edged knife. My old friend assured me it would find its target, and I strained my senses to identify who was below.
The emerging figure was of slight build, probably a girl or a small woman. She stopped directly under my perch and spun around, facing the way she had come with a pause. Another figure emerged behind her, rain and puddles spraying as he flew to her side. About half her size, full body covered in gray fur, long tail lashing behind him.
Ah, there he was. Darius.
Placing firm hands on the edge of the slick rooftop, I leapt over the edge feet-first. Making sure my heels would make first contact, I landed via slamming my boots into his neck. I heard a satisfying crunch as his bones snapped and his body went limp.
I pulled the knife free and aimed for his head, swinging with a swift strike. But my blow went sideways as Darius’ body rocked and trembled under my feet. Sparks flitted through the air as my knife came down on the sidewalk and I was forced into a roll as the wolf-body bucked me away. I swung to my feet and re-targeted, listening as the bones in his neck began to snap back into place.
An eyeless face turned toward me, ears swiveling as he checked his surroundings. Two long angled slits along his stubby, rounded snout widened and shrunk as he worked out scents, the tangled mass of hair connecting his jaws to his neck and chest dripping with the rainwater. It sagged from the puddles just under him, the ones I had shoved his face and neck into when I landed.
I shifted my weight and his ears caught it. He strayed sideways, the movement disjointed and rough. In the very least, I had broken a shoulder bone.
He snorted with a growling smile as he recognized me. “Olyvia,” he grunted, voice like rocks caught in a blender. “I thought it was you. Who else thinks it appropriate to land on an old friend’s neck?”
“You’re not my friend,” I stated. “I’m here on Keeper business. Come quietly.”
He hesitated, ears forward as we slowly circled each other. “Keepers? So you’ve turned traitor?”
“I’m no traitor,” I stated. “I have no choice.”
He paused, ears twitching. His head swung around a moment, sighting something -- likely someone -- nearby.
He looked back at me, and I knew he understood what was going on. I had Keeper tails watching me. They weren’t close, but they weren’t far. Apparently they didn’t trust the collar to do everything for them, which was frustrating.
“Aiens SaNon-Apari Pausarelo Pas?”
I blinked. He was speaking Howling, something close to his native language. I knew a little, enough to hold a conversation. He was asking if I had a deal with the Keepers...which was true. But why make the switch?
I followed his lead, making a show for Keeper eyes via brandishing my knife. “Seis Ompar Seis EloiioNon.”
He tilted his head. “NonSa.”
“Aiens SaNon-Apari Enabeo.”
He snorted and shook his head, baring his teeth as we continued to circle. He was taking my lead, helping me act out the part.“Eloiio Seis NonSa?”
He wanted to know why the Keepers wanted him specifically. I honestly didn’t know; likely they wanted him because he was a Marwolaeth. They honestly didn’t need much more than that to bring the shifters in.
“Onisraeri Sareis. Eloraelo Oneii?”
He nodded, tossing his head in a grand show of snarling. But all his actions specifically pointed to the elf girl huddling against a shop window. He placed himself between us, tail lashing back and forth as he listened for my response.
I glanced at the elf. “...Emina Seis?”
His tail wagged once before it returned to its thrashing.
“Emina Nonsaraoei?”
He shook his head, disregarding my question.“Aiens SaNon-Apari Seisons, Erssiio, Aieminareis. Rere Seis Ompar Seis Pas?”
That took me off guard, but I was running out of time. Something shifted in the dark, some magic nearby. Darius spun his head to face the direction it came from. I hadn’t given my answer, but we were out of time.
With a growl that turned into a guttural roar, he hunkered and launched at me, covering the distance in a single stride. His paws slammed into my shoulders, taking me off balance and forcing me down. The wind was knocked from me as Darius snarled and made a show of sounds and faces. His claws raked at my neck and shoulders, my defenses finally coming back up.
I swung at him with my knife, the silver blade barely making contact with his outside legs. With a theatrically loud noise, he bared his teeth and swung down. Pain sliced through my collar bone to the other side of my neck as his teeth tore through my skin.
A dislocated warning beep began to sound. The street was filled with the wet slapping of at least three different pairs of footfalls, and another burst of cold magic ripped through the air a few feet away. The Keepers were coming.
Daruis roared and pushed off me, bounding for the first Keeper that came in sight. Flashes of magic cracked through the rain, lighting up the empty buildings and shooting across the puddles and street.
A hand was on my shoulder, trying to help me up. Something began to curl across my neck, some magic to paralyze me and heal the scratches. Apparently this Keeper was unaware of my true nature.
With a snarl I shoved a heel against his chin. Blood and splintered teeth rained over me as I rolled away, the Keeper now having to deal with a slightly broken jaw and possible bone fragments under the skin.
What that Keeper didn’t know was that I had my own lunar-based healing ability. It may have been a stunted power, but it was enough to make the wound non-lethal even seconds after. Unfortunately, my ability didn’t numb the pain in the process.
Slapping a hand against my neck, I ignored the stabbing pain and tight windpipe, ignored the cold blood splashing over my hand, focused on breathing and running. I bolted for the elf girl, who was huddled down into her oversized jacket, holding a broadsword between her and the violence. As I ran up to her she ducked down further, eyes growing wider the closer I came.
Clearly, a tall woman running up to her with blood gushing from collar to neck saying ‘come with me’ wasn’t gonna fly. Left me with really one alternative, so I used my free hand to grab her elbow and hauled her up. She resisted, but only barely.
Another crack of lightning and a burst of kinetic energy sent Darius flying, but the wolf landed on his feet and continued fighting. A roar and the sounds of intense fighting continued to grow distant as we ran, the elf stumbling behind my own hurried gangly run. Within seconds the fighting was barely heard, me pulling the girl down a side-street and disappearing us into the darkness.
